- Lifestyle
How did we move from simple cardboard nativity scenes behind numbered windows to collections of high-end luxury goods costing hundreds – or quirky crocheted emotional support vegetables, asks Helen Coffey
Monday 01 December 2025 06:00 GMTComments
open image in galleryThe count down to Christmas shouldn't be paved with luxury goods (Getty/iStock)
Stay ahead of the curve with our weekly guide to the latest trends, fashion, relationships and more
Stay ahead of the curve with our weekly guide to the latest trends, fashion, relationships and more
Stay ahead of the curve with our weekly guide to the latest trends, fashion, relationships and more
Email*SIGN UPI would like to be emailed about offers, events and updates from The Independent. Read our Privacy notice
How many period pants does one person need? It’s not a question one often feels the need to ask, and yet it’s the inevitable query when an email lands in my inbox introducing the “world’s first period advent calendar”. Unbelievable as it may seem, no one had ever thought to fashion an advent calendar dedicated to menstrual products until now.
For those willing to shell out £130, they’ll be greeted each day with something different to support their cycle, from light-flow thongs and heavy-flow briefs to “hormone support” gummies and heat patches.
While I’m all for “breaking taboos” and “increasing period visibility”, as the brand in question puts it, I can’t for the life of me fathom who the target market for such a thing is. Mothers for their pubescent daughters, perhaps? (Though, from a teenager’s perspective, I imagine little could be more cringe.) Surely not men – or indeed women – for their partners? It’s a far cry from a romantic or sentimental gesture.
To spend that amount of money on anyone for a novelty pre-Christmas gift is a bizarrely extra flex. And, when you get right down to it, there’s not much in life that feels less festive than the monthly shedding of one’s womb lining.
It’s emblematic of a bigger trend I’ve noticed this year: Advent calendars are straight-up out of control. We’ve already witnessed the relentless creep of the luxury calendar as yet another unnecessary status symbol in recent years. You know the ones: retailing at several hundred pounds, they can be stuffed with anything from perfume to designer beauty products to craft gin or artisanal tea.
There’s the Vogue iteration, for example, described as “a coveted collection of wellness, skincare, beauty, jewellery, haircare and more” curated by editors and priced at a cool £355. Or Astrid and Miyu’s effort, which will set you back just shy of £700 for 23 separate bits of upscale jewellery that you don’t even get to select yourself.
open image in galleryOn the naughty list: Sex toy advent calendars (Satisfyer)Don’t worry; options abound for those with more traditionally masculine tastes who are also keen on spending a mind-bending sum. How about a Liberty men’s calendar filled with £260-worth of grooming products? Or £800 a pop for an “old and rare whisky” advent calendar?
I’m not sure why anyone really needs to open a high-end present every morning for 24 days straight – particularly right before a holiday typically associated with the giving and receiving of gifts. Though at least these lavish creations make some kind of sense; at a certain level of wealth, people presumably have so much wonga they don’t know what to do with it. (Hence the existence of the “world’s most expensive advent calendar”, a custom-made collection of designer watches, diamonds and artwork priced at £7.8m.)
But aside from all the jaw-droppingly extortionate variations on a theme, there are just so many downright weird offerings these days. There are advent calendars jammed with vibrators and c*** rings (it’s giving Lily Allen’s “Pussy Palace”); advent calendars filled with Christmas ornaments in the shape of medieval cats; or stocked with crocheted “emotional support” vegetables holding miniature signs with pun-filled messages. I want to understand, truly I do, but fear I am now too old to comprehend the cultural waters in which we’re swimming. We’re not in Kansas any more, Toto.
We’ve forgotten the joy of looking forward to something
How did we get from holy nativity pictures behind numbered windows to counting down to the birth of Christ by opening a masturbatory aid each morning? Whatever one personally believes the “real” meaning of Christmas to be, we can probably all agree: it ain’t this.
Regardless of religion, Advent is supposed to be a time of waiting – more than that, a time of getting ready for the arrival of something special. Perhaps that’s the problem. In a culture defined by instant gratification, where patience is an increasingly underrated and unnecessary virtue, we’ve forgotten the joy of looking forward to something.
But nobody needs 24 presents in the run-up to 25 December, whether face creams, novelty decorations or sex toys. Nobody needs to find themselves drowning in more stuff at a time already plagued by rampant overconsumption. This year, why not save the period pants till they’re actually needed, and give the gift of anticipation instead.
More about
Advent calendarsBeauty advent calendarChristmasSex toysJoin our commenting forum
Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies
Comments
